


Broken Dreams

by The_Undead_One



Category: Hollywood Undead (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:42:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28669398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Undead_One/pseuds/The_Undead_One
Summary: Lucas Hart is 28 years-old and does not have any part of his life together.Danny Murillo is 30 and is struggling through the aftermath of a divorce.
Relationships: Daniel Murillo | Danny/Original Character(s), George Ragan | Johnny 3 Tears/Jordon Terrell | Charlie Scene
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	1. The Best Mistake (Danny)

**Author's Note:**

> It's been awhile since I posted on my one shots, but that's because I was working on this. Surprise! 
> 
> I decided that I wanted to write full-fledged fanfictions (but don't worry. If you were one of the few who enjoyed the one shots, I'll still be writing those as well). I'm starting off with this one for Danny Murillo, but I'm thinking I wanna write one for the others as well, so if you like that idea and you want an individual story for the other boys, please leave a comment, and if you like this first part, leave a like to let me know.

"Danny."

"No."

"Danny, you need to get out of the house."

Danny groaned, burying his head into his pillow. He wanted more sleep. He wanted to sleep forever, forget about his miserable life and escape the pain that was reality. But Matthew Busek had to ruin his evening's plan. 

"I already did," he mumbled, voice muffled by the fabric of the pillowcase. 

A sudden chill hugged his body as his blanket was tugged off him. He curled up, hugging his knees to his chest, cracking his eyes open to see his friend standing over his bed. 

"Taking out the trash does not count," Matthew said. He held the blanket out of reach when Danny tried to snatch it back. A smile cracked on his face. "That's cute. Move over." 

Danny scrunched his face up in confusion but shifted over anyways, creating enough room for Matt to lay down next to him. For a long, uneasy moment, Matthew stared at Danny. His gaze was far away, and Danny could assume he'd started his morning off smoking weed for breakfast. That man could not lay off his weed for a day, but Danny was not about to judge. 

He let his eyes drop, snuggling into his best friend. He whispered a good night. 

Matthew pushed Danny off him with a laugh. "You're not going back to sleep. Get up. Eat something."

Danny groaned, rolling on to his back and throwing his arms out at either side of him. "I don't want to!" 

"You're so dramatic," Matt said, reaching over to tap his nose. "Come on," he continued as he slid out of bed. "I've made waffles." 

Danny shifted his gaze over, an innocent smile turning up his lips. "Can you bring me some?"

Matt frowned, resting a hand on his hip. He shook his head. "Danny... come on. You can't stay in bed forever."

"Yes, I can." And he would be damned if Matt thought otherwise. He rolled over onto his side, back to Matt, and closed his eyes again. 

"Charlie and Johnny told me to make sure you don't cocoon yourself all day, and I'm not gonna fail them."

"I'm not --" Danny squealed when Matthew rolled him back over and proceeded to pick him up. "Hey! Put me down!"

Matthew only laughed.

"This is harrassment! I wanna sleep!"

Danny huffed, dropping his head. He mumbled a curse under his breath. He was placed on his feet when they reached the kitchen. The smell of waffles rooted him to the spot when all he wanted to do was hurry back to the comfort of his bed. He really did like waffles, and there was nothing better than waffles made by Matthew Busek. 

"Here." Matt served up two fluffy waffles onto a plate and held it out for Danny, along with a fork and knife. He gestured to the table, and Danny lowered himself down into a chair. "You're going out today."

Danny doused the waffles in syrup. He pursed his lips tightly as he snapped close the lid and set the container back on the table. 

"I'm not leaving," he said, picking up his fork. 

Matthew sat down across Danny. "Yes, you are. Just, like, a café or something."

Danny slowly cut a piece of the waffle, slid the bite into his mouth, and took his time chewing. When he swallowed, he said, "What if I run into her?"

There was no need to ask who he meant. 

"She's your ex, not an enemy."

"I know, but..." Danny ran his tongue along his bottom lip. "My feelings are the enemy."

"You need something to ease the pain of love," Matthew said. "Maybe a visit to a club, maybe a strip club."

Danny's eyes widened, and he dropped his fork. It clattered on to the plate, into the syrup. "I'm not going to a strip club!"

Matthew shrugged. "It might be a good distraction."

Annoyance built in the pit of Danny's stomach, and suddenly he did want to go somewhere. Anywhere. Away from his friend's persistent badgering. He stood up and, without much of a word, left the house to enjoy a long walk. 

He wasn't mad at Matthew. Couldn't be. Danny knew he meant well and only wanted what was best for him. Still, he was trying to push him out of the house when he didn't want to -- in hindsight, it worked, but that was not the point. The point was that his plan had been to burrow under his blankets for the rest of his godforsaken life since it was the one thing he could trust to never leave him empty and cold. 

It was strange how much one person could ruin you. Reese had been everything to Danny, and she had told him he'd been everything to her. She had promised to spend the rest of her life with him. 

That was just the surface, though. Danny loved Reese. When they'd first met, his friends had insisted it was just an infatuation, but Danny didn't believe them. He believed in soulmates, in true loves, and from the first moment he'd lain eyes on her -- as cliché as it sounded -- he believed she was his soulmate, his true love. 

Oh, how naïve he'd been. 

A wave of 'oohs' and cheers tore Danny out of his thoughts. He stopped in his tracks and turned towards the sound. A colorful neon sign flashed down at him: Devil's Iris.

A strip club. 

He could -- 

No.

Danny turned away from the tempting signs. He wasn't going to be swayed that easily. He didn't need some girl rubbing against his legs to feel good about himself. He didn't need comfort in another woman. 

He forced his legs to walk away. There was no way he would give Matt the satisfaction. 

On the other hand, he thought as he once again stopped moving, it wouldn't hurt to test it out for one day. And who knew, it might be worth it.

Danny stared up at the sign. He didn't know why, but he was actually nervous. Not at the idea of a bunch of girls in lewd outfits, though. 

"Hey! You comin' in, or are you just gonna stand there?" 

Danny jumped. In front of Devil's Iris stood a tall, muscly man, arms crossed over his puffed-out chest. 

"Oh, uh -- um --"

"ID, please." The bouncer held out a hand. 

Danny retrieved his ID card hurridly. He thrusted his arm towards the bouncer, who took the card and thoroughly examined it. He hummed thoughtfully, glanced up at Danny, then nodded and handed the ID back, moving to the side. 

Danny had entrance now.

He blew out a deep breath and pushed open the doors to the strip club. It was like he walked into some sort of a dream. The lighting inside was mixed with purples and pinks. Most booths were filled with men gawking at the stage, where a pretty brunette was acting her part on stage. Other strippers sashayed around the floor, teasing men with a small touch or dance or outright grinding up against them. 

Danny made his way to a booth tucked in the back of the club, squeezing past drunk men and narrowly avoiding confrontation with a stripper with short black hair. He couldn't imagine the amount of married men coming here every day -- or the amount of angry emails or worse that these girls received. Danny had to hand it to them -- they were brave. 

Danny slid into the booth, and almost immediately after his butt hit the cushion, a waitress popped up with a friendly grin. 

"Is there anything I can get you, sir?" she asked. 

The use of 'sir' only reminded Danny of how old he was. 

"I'll take a whiskey."

The waitress nodded. "Anything else?" 

Danny smiled politely and shook his head. The waitress disappeared through the men to retrieve his drink. His smile dropped, and he sighed heavily, like the simple act of smiling had been too much effort. It was weird for him to be in a strip club. A nightclub, sure. But a strip club was more a thing for his other friends. He could imagine Funny having the time of his fucking life here. Actually he kind of wished Funny was there with him. He'd feel less uncomfortable. 

He considered leaving. He did, because this wasn't his scene, and he didn't know why he came in in the first place. To get a taste? Sometimes he was just stupid. 

He stayed, though. He had a drink on his way, and he didn't want to be one of those guys that checked a place out only to leave seconds later without even trying to enjoy himself. And even if he didn't enjoy himself after about an hour, at least he'd know never to come back. That was how he saw it. 

The waitress came back, drink in hand, the same grin on her face. "Here you go," she said, setting the glass in front of Danny. She remained where she stood as Danny raised the glass to his lips and took a sip, as if she were fascinated by his movements. 

"I'm Sasha, by the way," she said, gesturing to the nametag pinned above her left breast. 

Danny followed the movement of her hand, then quickly looked away again. "Um... okay." 

Sasha nodded, stood for a second, then turned and walked off. 

Danny frowned and shifted his gaze to his whiskey. It felt like that girl was hitting on him, but all the same, he would feel so guilty if he had just turned away a fan. 

He sighed again, tipped back his head, and chugged down the liquid. He slammed the glass back down and winced as the heat slid down his throat and settled in his stomach. 

The black-haired stripper from before appeared at his table. She picked up his glass and peered in, mouth drawn down in a pout.

"Aw, what a pity," she said. "I was gonna do a body shot with you."

"Oh, um, I'm sorry but no thanks."

She glanced up at Danny. "Oh! Are you married?" She leaned against the table, giving him a wicked grin, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Because I'm not afraid of a little risk, you know. That's why I'm here." She winked. 

Danny leaned away. "I'm not... I'm not married. Divorced, actually."

"Are you a newcomer?"

Danny nodded. "I guess."

The stripper straightened up. "Well, I hope you come by often. It's really not all that bad here. I'll take this back and call for a waitress to get you another. Whiskey, is it?"

Danny barely heard her at all. His attention had shifted just past her, towards the bar, where he noticed a man, at least a few years younger than him, and a woman pressed up against each other. The man appeared extremely uncomfortable as the woman, oblivious towards his discomfort, continued to shamelessly flirt, swinging her hips, leaning in like she was about to kiss him. 

"Sir?" 

Danny snapped his gaze back to the stripper. "Right. Yeah, whiskey."

She started to turn when Danny suddenly called out for her to wait. She looked over her shoulder, eyes expectant. 

"That guy over there --" He gestured towards the man and woman. "--is he a worker?"

The stripper looked over. "Yeah. He's a waiter. Why?"

"Can you have him bring over my drink?" As soon as the question was out, he wanted to shovel them back down his throat. What the fuck was he doing? 

The stripper agreed without questioning and ambled away to ask for another drink. Danny pulled out his phone. Matt had texted him twice -- once about ten minutes ago, asking if he'd gone to the strip club. The second message was sent two minutes ago:

_Matt: you did didn't you? ;)_

__Danny rolled his eyes and sent him a 'fuck off'. Matthew sent back a kissy face emoji and a peach emoji, and Danny couldn't help but laugh. Classic Matt. Really, Danny appreciated having him as a friend. He didn't know what he would do without him._ _

__They exchanged messages for a couple minutes before, out of the corner of his eye, Danny noticed the male waiter approaching his table. He set his phone aside and glanced towards the man._ _

__"Your whiskey, sir," he said, placing the cup in front of Danny. His lips twitched up in a shy smile._ _

__"Thank you."_ _

__Like Sasha, he stood around for a long couple seconds, hand against his lips. He was nibbling away at the skin on his thumb._ _

__Danny raised the cup to his lips, hesitated, then lowered it back down._ _

__"Thank you," the waiter rushed. "I didn't think she'd ever leave me alone."_ _

__"Do you get that a lot?"_ _

__"Yeah, I -- I mean, sort of, I guess. I think it's 'cause I'm the only guy that works here. It's weird because, like, why me when there's, like, a ton of guys that come here every day? It doesn't make sense. I mean, I'm --" He paused, eyes widening. "I'm rambling. I'm sorry, you probably think I'm really weird now. I'm just a waiter and I'm getting personal. I'm sorry, I --"_ _

__Danny chuckled. "It's fine. Can I tell you a secret?"_ _

__The waiter froze, mouth open as he fought for words, and when Danny leaned over, he did, too._ _

__"I was also feeling a little uncomfortable," Danny whispered._ _

__A shy smile flickered on his face, and he let out a nervous laugh. "Oh. First time?"_ _

__Danny nodded. "Yeah."_ _

__The waiter tipped his head to the side. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. "You... you look familiar," he finally said._ _

__Danny raised an eyebrow. "Do I?"_ _

__"Yeah, I just -- I don't know. I feel like I've seen you before."_ _

__Danny could name a few reasons for that. But he didn't want to admit he was in a band. Not yet. He wasn't intentionally playing with this man, either. He just enjoyed being treated like an actual human being, and encounters with fans -- whether Hollywood Undead or Lorene Drive -- tended to be a little strange, only because fans worshipped band members like they were above them or too good to be near them or something when really he was just an equal, another person trying to live a normal life._ _

__"That's strange," he said. "I think I would recognize you right away."_ _

__"Are you -- are you f-flirting?" the waiter stammered, cheeks now a flaming red. "With me?"_ _

__Danny shrugged. "Just being honest."_ _

__"I-- I-I have to go. Uh, I wait, you know, um, people, so..."_ _

__God, this man was adorable. Now he wasn't falling in love or anything, but he had eyes._ _

__"You're probably busy anyways, and I don't want to interrupt anything --"_ _

__"You're not interrupting," Danny said. "I don't mind the company."_ _

__"I have work--"_ _

__Someone -- the boss or the bartender -- walked up to the table then. "Lucas, what are you doing?"_ _

__The waiter -- Lucas -- visibly tensed. "I'm sorry, I was just about to leave, I swear --"_ _

__The boss -- or who Danny assumed was the boss -- only laughed. "No need, no need. It's officially your break."_ _

__"My... break?"_ _

__She held out a tall glass of gin. "Yes." She appeared serious, but there was a gleam in her eyes. What was her plan? "Twenty minutes."_ _

__Lucas gingerly took the glass, rose it to his face, and sniffed it. Searching for a whiff of poison, Danny supposed, unable to control the smile turning his lips._ _

__The boss patted his shoulder. "Twenty minutes," she repeated before walking away._ _

__"Well," Danny said with a smirk, "I guess you're not working."_ _

__Lucas stared down at the gin in his hands, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I... I guess not?" Slowly, uncertainly, he lowered himself in the seat across from Danny, setting the glass on the table. "I hope you don't mind if I -- if I sit here."_ _

__"Like I said, I really don't mind the company." In fact, he preferred it over being alone at the moment. He told himself it didn't matter with whom; however, he was relieved it wasn't one of the girls._ _

__Lucas traced the rim of the glass. "Why are you here if..." His question trailed off in thin air._ _

__"If it makes me uncomfortable?" Danny finished for him. Lucas nodded, and Danny tilted his head in thought. That was a good question. He didn't understand half the things he did sometimes. "You know... I don't really know, if I'm being honest. I guess, as cliché as it sounds, I was drawn in."_ _

__There was a moment of silence, then Lucas cracked a smile. "Yeah, that does sound a bit cliché."_ _

__"What about you?" Danny asked. "It's gotta be weird being the only guy working here."_ _

__Lucas shrugged. "I guess so... but I need money, and this was my last hope. Other than working in a stuffy office for the rest of my life, I suppose."_ _

__"What would you rather be doing then?"_ _

__"I... no, it's stupid..."_ _

__Danny frowned. He took a long drink of whiskey, eyes never leaving the man across from him. He had his arms rested on the surface of the table, a finger tracing the lines on the palm of his hand. His lips were set in a frown, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought._ _

__"I don't believe that," he said softly. After all, if you were truly passionate about something, then it wasn't stupid._ _

__"I was... I was told my whole life that it was."_ _

__"Your life isn't over yet."_ _

__"So?"_ _

__"Try me. What do you want to do with your life? Because I highly doubt it's this." Danny gestured around them._ _

__Lucas glanced around them. He sighed. He was conflicted. It showed, clear as day. Danny couldn't blame him. He was a total stranger, and Lucas was just a waiter in a strip club trying to make money to live a decent life. That wasn't something that happened on a daily basis, either, Danny could assume._ _

__"Okay, I'll tell you," Lucas said, facing Danny, who leaned in eagerly. "I've always dreamt of... of playing music. On stage. Like guitar or something. It's silly, I know."_ _

__"It's not silly. Lucas, think of all the singers and bands putting out music right now."_ _

__"They probably sold their soul for that spot," Lucas mumbled, just clear enough for Danny to make out the words._ _

__He burst out laughing. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"_ _

__"You're laughing."_ _

__"Not at you! I just--" Danny sobered up a little, shaking his head. "Lucas, that's bullshit and you know it."_ _

__A blush rose on the waiter's cheeks. "Thanks..."_ _

__"Who told you that was stupid, anyways?"_ _

__"Everyone. My family, my teachers, peers. I sort of just... gave up after awhile." He sighed. "And they're right. It's not easy to make a living out of music."_ _

__"I disagree."_ _

__"Why?"_ _

__Danny paused, tilting his head. His lips twitched as a familiar tune filled his ears. "Do you hear that?"_ _

__Lucas listened, visibly confused. "Yeah?"_ _

__"That's my song," Danny said._ _

__"What?"_ _

__"Well, my band's song."_ _

__"You're in a band?"_ _

__Danny began to dance in his seat and sang along. "I'm gonna chase this whiskey with Patrón. I want a girl on my lap and a Jägerbomb. I'm comin' in hot, you heard me. And I'mma make it rain on the girl who serves me."_ _

__Lucas giggled, slapping a hand to his mouth. "No way! I don't believe it!"_ _

__Danny grinned. "No, it's true! I didn't want to say anything at first, but yeah. I play music, which is why I believe you can, too."_ _

__Suddenly Lucas appeared shy and uncertain again. "N-no... it's not the same. Besides it's too late now."_ _

__Danny reached over and placed his hand over Lucas's. "It's never too late to do what you want."_ _

__Lucas stared at his hand for what felt like forever. Then he raised his head, eyes meeting with Danny's. "If... if you're really in a band, prove it."_ _

__Prove it. How could he do that? He could provide names, roles, the band name, but then he could also be making it all up. Lucas wouldn't know any better if he didn't know who the band actually was._ _

__Then an idea struck._ _

__"Okay, I'll prove it to you," Danny said. "But that requires going somewhere."_ _

__"I can't leave right now."_ _

__"I know."_ _

__"So then how--"_ _

__"After your shift."_ _

__"Oh."_ _

__"Lucas!" A sing-song voice interrupted the moment. "Time's up!" The woman from before -- the boss -- appeared next to the table. Her eyes landed on the full glass in front of Lucas. "You didn't drink your gin?"_ _

__"You know I don't drink..."_ _

__"Oh, such a pity." She picked up the glass, shrugged, and chugged the whole thing. "Come on. Back to work." Without waiting to see if he'd follow, she turned her back and headed back to the bar._ _

__Lucas sighed. "I'm sorry... I have to go." He rose to his feet._ _

__"Are you down?"_ _

__"Huh?"_ _

__Danny chuckled. "Can I take you some place after your shift?"_ _

__"Oh, uh... yeah. Sure." He slid out of the booth and hurried away._ _

__Danny watched him leave, a smile never leaving his face. That was probably the weirdest, most unusual thing to happen to Danny. But he couldn't be more thankful to Matthew for preasuring him to get out of the house. He was right about one thing:_ _

__A strip club was a nice distraction._ _


	2. The Danny Mystery (Lucas)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny proves to Lucas he's in a band. They have a nice little chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I can't stop myself. I have an idea for a slash fic based on Hotel California by The Eagles. I've always been obsessed with that song and the whole Hell concept within it. Please comment if you would like to see something like that, and feel free to suggest a ship for it as I don't know quite yet what ship I should use. 
> 
> Anyways I hope you enjoy this chapter

What the hell was that? 

He was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. If Danny had been telling the truth, then Lucas had called his career stupid and silly. That, and he had acted like a complete downer, complaining about his sad life story when Danny had been the customer, not him. He didn't want to show his face again, but now he had to join him on an adventure to who knew where.

Oh, no. He could have agreed on a death mission. What if Danny was a serial killer leading him to his doom? Who would come save him? His parents? That was a laugh. His parents wouldn't care. They'd probably celebrate his last days, relieved they didn't have to worry about holiday visits or rare phone calls. They weren't the proudest that their eldest son was working at a strip club. He should have been a successful doctor or lawyer or something they could boast about. Lucas didn't want that. He wanted to be a musician. He'd scraped up whatever money he could after moving out of his parents' house and paid for private guitar lessons. That only lasted for a week, which was longer than he'd expected. Ever since then he'd been practicing on his own. 

Maybe he could slip out of the club after his shift and hide away in his house. He never told Danny where he lived, so then he would be forced to cancel their plans. He'd feel guilty for ghosting on him, but a large part of him knew Danny would forget about him within a day. Danny could be a huge singer; Lucas was barely memorable at all. Why should he care about some stupid waiter? 

"Penny for your thoughts?" 

Lucas snapped back to reality. Sasha, a waitress and one of his only real friends, stood in front of him, holding on to a tray with various drinks placed neatly among its surface. 

"It's nothing," he mumbled.

Sasha remained silent, eyes drifting elsewhere. "He is cute, isn't he?"

"Huh?"

"Him." She tilted her head not-so-subtly in the direction Lucas had just come from. Lucas looked over to see Danny still seated in the booth, eyes glued to his phone. He raised his head as if he sensed him staring. They locked eyes, and Danny grinned. "I'm almost jealous."

Sasha's voice startled Lucas. It seemed he'd forgotten she was still there. 

"Jealous?"

"Yeah. I don't think he wanted me over there."

Lucas furrowed his eyebrows. "He didn't?"

Sasha hummed in thought. "No, I don't think he did. I gotta take these drinks to a group of rowdy guys. Maybe I can try my luck with one of them." She walked away before Lucas could even say anything, leaving him alone with his thoughts. 

Did Sasha try to advance on Danny? And he rejected her? Yet he'd been wanting company the entire time. So then Lucas was his target? He really was out to lead him some place private to bludgeon him? 

Was that his plan all along? To charm Lucas into walking straight into death? 

The day seemed to fly by, much to Lucas's dismay. Every minute that passed made him more and more nervous, and he silently willed for the day to slow down or for Danny to forget about their agreement. 

It wasn't long before his shift ended, and he found himself in the men's restroom to change back into regular clothes. Lucas refused to leave the club with his work uniform on, so he always brought a spare outfit with him. The outside world was dangerous -- too many dangerous people. Growing up on the streets of L.A has taught him a lot about society. Not fitting in with society can get someone in a lot of trouble, and who knew what would happen if Lucas was spotted walking the streets sporting knee-length fishnets and a 'sexy' black dress? 

Nothing good could come out of that. 

He changed quickly, not daring to linger any longer than he needed to. Slinging his backpack over his shoulders, he hurried out of the bathroom and to the front doors. 

"Lucas!" 

Lucas froze, one hand on the door handle. Slowly he turned his head. Danny was pushing his way through the crowd, straight towards Lucas. He exhaled deeply, dropping his hand from the door to fully face the other. "Hi..."

"Are you ready?" Danny asked. 

"You...waited here for me?" 

Danny smiled brightly. Something about it calmed the knots of nerves in his stomach. "Of course I did. You didn't have time to give me your address and I didn't know what time your shift ended to come back for you, so I stayed."

That was sweet. Lucas wanted to tell him that, but instead all that came out was, "Oh."

"So are you ready?" 

Lucas nodded. He pushed open the door, flashing the bouncer a shy smile as he walked past. 

"Don't be nervous," Danny said, as if he could read into Lucas's soul. "I think you'll like where we're going."

Lucas glanced over. He gripped one strap of his backpack tightly. At least that way he could easily protect himself if Danny did try to attack. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise." 

"Oh... okay." He dropped his gaze, admiring the tips of his converse. 

"You know, I'm not gonna kill you or anything."

Lucas whipped his head around to look at Danny. "I-I-" The words didn't come, lodged in the back of his throat. 

Danny laughed. "You're tense. Come on, just trust me. If I whip out an axe, I give you full permission to pepper spray me or kick me in the balls or something."

Lucas managed a weak smile and even chuckled a little. "Okay. I will." 

They fell in a more comfortable silence. Lucas spent the walk -- however long that was; he hadn't been counting the minutes -- wondering if he were secretly in a movie. That was what it felt like. It was weird how the events played out, like something you'd only see in movies. His head hurt just thinking about it.

Luckily he didn't have to because Danny stopped walking then. He gestured to the building in front of them, grinning. 

"Where are we?" Lucas asked, shifting his gaze onto the building. It was small, and it didn't appear special, much like many other buildings on the street. 

"This," Danny said as he pulled open the door, "is the studio." He tilted his head, inviting Lucas to enter first. 

Lucas didn't move. "The studio?" 

"Go on. Nothing's waiting in there for you, I promise." 

Could be a lie. He shook that thought away and stepped inside, instantly warming up. Danny stepped in behind him and closed the door. 

"See," Danny said. "You're safe."

And Lucas did feel safe. He could feel his guard slipping, and he fought to keep it up. Danny led him down the hall to the first door on the left. He pulled out a set of keys from his jacket pocket and unlocked the door. Lucas entered first again, eyes widening in awe as he took in the scenery. 

He'd never been in an actual studio before, though he'd always dreamt of being in one someday. It was everything he'd imagined and more. It was better, even. 

Lucas barely noticed his feet move when he suddenly found himself standing in front of a display of guitars on the wall. He reached up a hand, mesmerized, and lightly traced the bottom of a white rhythm guitar. 

"Do you believe me now?"

Lucas startled, retracting his hand as if he were caught touching something he wasn't supposed to. He spun around, keeping his hands folded behind his back. Danny was leaning against the doorway, and he grinned at Lucas's reaction. 

"That's my guitar. Be glad you weren't messing with J-Dog's." 

Lucas shifted. "Why?"

Danny shrugged nonchalantly. "Because he'll cut off your fingers one by one if he finds out."

"W-what?" 

Danny stepped into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him. "I touched his guitar once and he nearly broke my hand. Without a warning. Dude's scary."

Lucas glanced back at the guitars warily. He made a mental note to keep away from the instruments lest he lose a couple fingers. 

Danny sighed. "I'm sorry. That wasn't nice of me."

Lucas looked back at Danny, head tilted curiously. "What do you mean?"

"J-Dog wouldn't give a shit as long as you didn't scratch the paint."

He blinked, relaxing. He hadn't realized he'd tensed up. "Oh."

Danny reached around Lucas and grabbed the guitar off the wall. He strummed a chord, nodded, then held it out to Lucas. He stared at it uncertainly, shifting his weight as he suppressed the urge to take the offer. It wasn't his guitar after all. He thought back to his own, tucked away in his closet, one string broken and unable to be fixed. If he accidentally broke Danny's guitar...

Hell, he would never forgive himself. 

His gaze shifted to Danny's brown eyes. The older man gave him an almost imperceptible nod, and Lucas reluctantly accepted the guitar. He stared at the instrument in his hands, fingers hovering over the strings. He'd never seen something so beautiful in his life. His own guitar couldn't even begin to compare. 

"Do you know how to play?" 

The question startled Lucas. He jumped, tightening his grip around the neck of the guitar. Taking a deep breath, he loosened his hold.

"Y-yeah," he stammered out, "I can. Um..." He licked his lips thoughtfully. It had been awhile since he'd last played, and he was afraid of how rusty he'd be in front of a professional, someone who played on stage in front of millions of expectant fans. But as soon as he forced his fingers to move and the familiar tune filled the small space around them, all of his worries faded. 

He still knew what he was doing. 

"The Beatles. Nice."

Lucas closed his eyes as he let the music take over, his fingers now seemingly moving on their own accord. He mouthed the lyrics, forgetting for a bit that he wasn't alone in his bedroom in his apartment. 

A Hard Day's Night by The Beatles. That was the first song he'd ever learned to play on the guitar. It was the song he loved most growing up, one of the few songs that had always motivated him to push through whenever he was upset. Lucas should have known the music by heart now, and when he accidentally played the wrong chord, he winced and clapped his hands against the strings to stop the vibration. 

"Why'd you stop?" Danny asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Lucas only held the guitar out, averting his gaze. "You were doing great, though."

Lucas squeezed his eyes shut tight. "No, no. I'm not good... not as good as you must be."

"You were amazing. It's obvious you've been practicing hard."

"I... yeah, I have..." 

"Don't let a single mistake stop you then."

Lucas swallowed the lump forming in his throat. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes, and he quickly blinked them away before Danny could witness him crying. He couldn't remember a time somebody said those kinds of things to him, and for some reason it hurt. 

Danny must have seen the tears anyways because he gently took the guitar out of his hands. "Are you okay?"

"I--"

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No, I --" He wiped his eyes. "I'm fine. I'm sorry, I just..."

Danny cocked his head, but he didn't say anything, just turned around and hung the instrument back up. Lucas sniffed and pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes as he fought back the tears. Why was he such a god damn crybaby? It was embarrassing. He was a fucking man, nearly thirty, and here he was, crying over a simple yet meaningful sentence. 

"Hey." A hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?" 

Lucas dropped his arms to his sides. He inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly. "Nothing. It's just -- you're right. Thank you."

Danny flashed a smile. "You're welcome." He backed away then, and Lucas would be lying to himself if he said that he didn't feel disappointed with the absense of his touch. Why? What was that about? 

He shrugged it off. Danny was the first person -- other than Sasha and his younger brother -- who actually seemed to care about him. It was natural he felt drawn to him, right? Why, though? It was clear he wasn't lying about his occupation, so why would he be paying any attention to a strip club waiter? A waiter! Not a waitress, a waiter. It would have made sense if he spotted any of the others clinging to his arm. Yet he'd turned away Sasha, one of the most gorgeous girls in the world in his opinion. He couldn't even begin to wrap his head around it, didn't know if he wanted to. If he found himself too attached, he'd just get hurt. 

That was how it always happened, right? 

"Penny for your thoughts?"

A small smile crept onto his face. "You sound like Sasha."

"Sasha? She served me, I think."

"She's my friend." _My only friend._ That was what he wanted to say, but how pathetic would that be? 

"Oh." Danny chewed his bottom lip in thought. Lucas found himself staring and quickly tore his gaze away. Heat crept onto his cheeks. "Can you tell her I said sorry?"

Lucas blinked. "Sorry?"

"For brushing her off. And if she wants an autograph, a picture, anything, I'll be more than happy to do it." 

"I don't think she knows who you are."

"Oh, okay."

Lucas shrugged and, with a sheepish smile, said, "She probably just wanted to get you in bed."

Danny chuckled. "I knew it." He grinned and did a little dance, like the idea of someone actually wanting to sleep with him was so rare that it was worth celebrating. Lucas almost laughed at the thought, then shook his head, nose scrunching up in confusion. 

"Do you want me to --" Lucas started, and the words vanished before he could get them out.

Danny froze mid-dance, processing what he was asking, and when he realized what the unfinished question was, he burst into laughter. "No! I don't want -- I can't --"

"Not with her?" 

The laughter ceased immediately. He frowned. "That's not what I meant."

Lucas crossed his arms. "Sasha's gorgeous. And she's not looking for anything serious, so if you don't want to do it again --" 

"And if I did?" Danny stepped forward. They were nearly chest-to-chest. "If I happened to fall in love with her?" 

"I.." Lucas swallowed the lump in his throat. "Then I guess that's your problem."

"Yeah, I guess it would be." Danny stepped away then and brushed past Lucas, who spun around, eyes never leaving the other. He crossed over to the door. One hand wrapped around the knob when Lucas spoke up again.

"Would it be so bad?" 

At first the question was met with silence. Lucas wanted to take it back, and he opened his mouth to apologize when Danny turned away from the door. 

"Would what be so bad?" he asked. 

It was an innocent question. No anger, just curiosity. Still Lucas felt bad for asking. He shouldn't be prying into his love life, and he had no idea why he was. 

He forced the next words out. "Dating her? Falling in love?"

Danny exhaled deeply. "Yeah," he said. "It would." Something flashed across his eyes, but it was gone as soon as it was there. "Tell her I'm sorry, okay?"

Lucas couldn't speak. He nodded, hoping that was enough. Danny smiled warmly, and he guessed it was, but that left him with a lingering question: What was that all about?


	3. An Unpleasant Surprise (Danny)

_Would it be so bad_?

 _Would what be so bad_?

 _Dating her? Falling in love_?

 _Yeah. It would_.

Danny sighed, dropping his head onto the table. He hadn't gone back home yet, hadn't texted Matthew he wasn't on his way back. Instead he had made a pit stop to the local café. Initially he had intended to stay for a quick pick-me-up drink, but that was never how things turned out, were they? It had been late afternoon when he'd first stepped inside. Now the sun merely peeked above the horizon. 

His phone buzzed, but he ignored it. It was probably just Matthew checking up on him. He'd be fine without an answer for a bit, and Danny was preoccupied. He couldn't stop thinking about the events throughout the day, about how, for the first time in a long while, he didn't feel tied down in a cage, surrounded by starving demons. He felt free, like he could do _almost_ anything. 

Not now. Now he just wanted to curl up and not live.

Not die. Just not live. 

It had been fun with Lucas at first -- getting to know him, showing him a side of him he wouldn't show just anyone because he, for some reason, trusted him not to react how he'd expect anyone else to react. And he hadn't, and he was thankful for that. 

But there was something about the way he had looked right before they'd parted ways. 

Danny had locked up the studio for the night. Lucas had fallen quiet after his question, which was fine because Danny had been lost in his thoughts anyways. It had been several months since the divorce, and yes, he could admit that he hadn't been taking it well at all. That first night, after it had struck that it was really over, Danny had found himself knocking on Matthew Busek's front door. When Matt opened the door, Danny had broken down, collapsing against Matt, full on sobbing. Matthew had pulled him indoors without a single question and lowered them down on the couch. He didn't ask what happened -- though Danny had always suspected he'd known from the start. He only held Danny close for the fourty minutes it had taken for him to calm down enough to speak. 

Of course, it had only progressively got worse from there. Matthew had insisted Danny move in with him, he had an extra bedroom he could use. For the next month, Danny hid himself away in the bedroom, crying until he couldn't anymore, never leaving the comfort of his blanket even for food. It had reached the point Matthew had to call in their other friends because he honestly had feared for his life. 

"Danny?" Lucas had pulled him out of his thoughts. "Will you... come back?"

"Huh?"

"To the strip club?" 

Danny chewed his bottom lip. "I... I don't know, Lucas. It's really not my scene." 

"Oh."

They had left it at that before parting ways. But Danny couldn't pretend like he hadn't seen the hurt and the confusion flash in his eyes, even for the briefest moment. It left Danny confused, too, and guilty and maybe the slightest bit regretful. He had felt bad about it afterwards, but he had wondered what would have happened if he hadn't entered that strip club. Then things wouldn't be so damn complicated. 

It wasn't Lucas at all, but he hated the way he made him feel like he wanted to come back and keep coming back. Truthfully he did want to go back to the strip club -- tomorrow, in fact. But he knew that was a bad idea. Whether they just stayed friends or not, he couldn't get close. That was just a heartbreak waiting to happen, and Danny didn't think he had any more heart breaks in him left to handle. 

Maybe he was being just a touch overdramatic. 

"Danny."

Startled, Danny jolted up, nearly knocking his drink over. He grabbed it just in time. 

"You weren't answering my texts." 

Danny sighed. "So you stalked me?"

Reese shook her head. "No, I was passing by when I saw you through the window. It's been awhile, hasn't it?" 

"Who's counting?" 

Silence. Then she sighed, welcoming herself to the booth across from him. "Listen, I was thinking, and I really do miss you."

 _And I miss you_. "You miss what we had."

Reese cracked a smile. "What we had was perfect." 

Danny scoffed. He didn't know what game she was playing at, but she played it well. He couldn't play into her hands. It didn't end well for him last time, and he doubted it would be any better the second time around. Reese was an amazing person. They just didn't work well together, as much as Danny hated to admit it. 

"Don't you think so?" She reached out an arm and placed her hand over his. Danny wanted to pull away -- he screamed at himself to pull away -- but he didn't. 

"What we had was perfect," he said. "But we... we don't have that anymore."

"But we can still salvage --" 

Oh, how great that would be if it were true. "No, we can't, Theresa. The couple we thought we were when we were younger is gone. Over." 

Reese dropped her gaze, pulled her arm back. She was fighting back tears, and so was Danny. But he was right, and it was probably weeks curled up in his room, alone with his thoughts, that made him realize the truth. His heart wanted Reese, but his mind knew better. 

Danny sighed, rising to his feet. "I..I need to get back to Matthew. He's probably wondering where I am." 

Reese raised her head. "Since when does Matthew have control over your life?"

Danny blinked. "He doesn't." 

"Exactly." She got up. "So who cares if Matthew worries a little when you don't tell him where you are at every hour?" 

"I do?" It came out more like a question. 

Reese continued as if he hadn't spoken a word. "I get that you don't want to get back together, but can we at least hang out? Salvage some kind of friendship between us?"

"This is exactly what I was afraid would happen," Danny muttered, rubbing his forehead. And he knew exactly how it would play out, too. She didn't want to just hang out. He knew she knew him well, and she knew damn well Danny would come crawling back into her arms if they started hanging out again. 

No. Danny couldn't let that happen. 

"Okay, fine." God fucking dammit. "I'll hang out with you. But no funny business, please."

Reese smiled brightly. "No funny business." 

_What am i getting myself into_?

Danny smiled back. Yet all he could see when he looked into Reese's eyes were the countless arguments that always ended in tears (mainly from Danny) and slamming doors (from Reese). Danny had spent most of those nights assuring their daughter Scarlett -- and himself -- that everything would be okay, and everything would work out in the end. That didn't happen, unfortunately. 

God, what was he doing with his life? 

_I fucking hate myself_.


	4. Love (Lucas)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to pop in and warn you all that there is a scene where a guy says some stuff. Before ya'll freak out in the comments, I don't agree with it. I just felt like I had to put it in for storyline purposes. I would never put it in if it didn't mean anything to the story.
> 
> That's all I wanted to say. Enjoy, and please leave a comment. It does motivate me.

It had been a week, and Danny never once stopped by. Lucas would be lying if he said he wasn't even a little upset. No, he was saddened by the thought that he would probably never see Danny ever again. What did he think would happen anyway? Danny was in a fucking band! He probably had girls attached to his arm all the time. Scratch that -- he was probably married.

And why did Lucas care anyway? He could acknowledge that Danny was cute. He thought a lot of guys were cute. A lot of cute guys came to Devil's Iris. Sasha rambled about them to Lucas all the time. Lucas never fangirled with her -- he still felt awkward about it all. He typically kept that kind of stuff in his head. But Danny was cute. 

Still, Lucas didn't like Danny. 

And even if he did, Lucas knew Sasha did, too, even if she didn't want to admit she wanted to settle with him. He couldn't count on both hands how many times she brought him up in conversation every day. Lucas snapped once, but he immediately apologized. Sasha appeared concerned, though, and for the first time she asked how _he_ was doing.

Lucas blinked. "What?" 

Sasha set down her fork. They were sitting on the living room floor of Lucas's apartment, feasting on leftover take-out Chinese. The TV was on but neither actually paid attention to it. 

"You never snap," Sasha said. "And you just did! So what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong!" Lucas insisted. His face grew hot. "I just -- I don't know..."

"I get it. I do. I talk about him all the time. You're tired of it. I should be the sorry one."

"You talk about boys all the time, though."

Sasha grinned. "It's not my fault you're the only friend I can talk to about them!"

Lucas rolled his eyes, stuffing his face with lo mein so he wouldn't have to answer. He doubted that was the reason. She had tons of friends! Hell, they probably talked boy shit all the time. 

"No, wait." Sasha leaned forward. Lucas flicked his gaze up to meet hers cautiously. Her eyes shined with excitement, a flicker of realization crossing her features. He silently begged her not to say what he thought she was going to. "You like him, don't you?"

Lucas choked on the noodles, punching his chest as he violently coughed. "I-I'm sorry, what?! Who?"

Sasha laughed giddily. "You like Danny, too!"

"Hold up! No, I don't! What-what gave off that impression?" 

"Just a hunch," Sasha said, crossing her arms. "A feeling. So be honest with me."

"I am."

"Do you like him?"

"No!" 

Sasha raised an eyebrow.

Lucas narrowed his eyes, trying to look intimidating and doubting he did. But still, she was starting to get on his nerves. He doubted she would drop it. 

And she didn't. 

She picked up her fork and stabbed into a piece of sweet and sour chicken. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Lucas was confused. Was she not upset that he could like the same guy she did? Or was that being too stereotypical? Or did she really not like him? That would certainly be embarrassing.

"Do about what?"

"Danny! Didn't you say he didn't want to catch feelings?"

Lucas stammered. "I don't like him!"

Sasha waved her fork in dismissal. "Yeah, yeah. Listen, I talk about my boy toys all the time. It's time to hear about yours."

"I don't have boy toys..." he grumbled. He was beginning to lose his appetite. 

"Not with that attitude." 

"What attitude?!"

Sasha pointed the fork at Lucas. "This. This is what I'm talking about. You're raising your voice again. What's up, babe?"

Lucas sighed. "I hate you very much."

"I love you, too. Now spill."

For awhile, Lucas said nothing. What was there to say? How did he feel? He didn't know. 

"Okay, fine," he said. "I miss him, but -- I thought we were gonna be friends or something. I don't really believe it's gonna go anywhere anyway."

Sasha shook her head. "This is why you're still single. You don't believe."

Lucas couldn't help but laugh. It sounded like she was about to start some rant about the magic of manifestation. "You can't tell me you believe that."

"You're right. I don't. You're not going after what you want."

He raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"

"Love."

"I don't want love."

"Everyone wants love."

Lucas cracked a small smile. "You want to feel loved. By everyone."

"And you don't?"

Lucas laughed. He stood up, picking up his nearly empty plate. He couldn't with her. He loved her dearly, but she was a lot to handle sometimes. 

But she also got him thinking sometimes. Lucas always believed love was the last thing he wanted. He wasn't afraid of love or loving someone. Just being hurt. And he liked to think that was a valid reason. After all he grew up believing his family loved him, but the second he came out they suddenly thought he was raised by Satan himself. If his own flesh and blood can do that, then a stranger certainly could. 

It took him awhile to allow Sasha into his life. She was gorgeous, funny, and a little on the hyper side. That was fine, though. She brought him somewhat out of his shell.

Back then, he truly believed that he could learn to love girls. So he tried. He invited Sasha over one night and kissed her. She warned him that she didn't fall easily and that that would most likely never happen again. Lucas didn't care. A one-night stand was all that he wanted.

And a one-night stand was not what he got.

She had just thrown his shirt aside and was about to reattach their lips when he placed his hand on her chest, stopping her halfway. 

"Is everything okay?" she had asked. 

"Yeah, I just...something doesn't feel right. This feels wrong..."

Sasha sat back. "You don't feel anything."

Lucas shook his head. He had felt horribly ashamed. 

But Sasha hadn't minded. She leaned back down, claiming that didn't matter. But it had. It had mattered to Lucas. So Sasha had climbed off, and they had sat there, Lucas leaning against the headboard, half-naked, and Sasha with her legs tucked underneath her and the blanket wrapped around her body. It was awkward at first, and then:

"So you're gay?"

And something about the way she asked the question and the atmosphere made Lucas laugh. It made them both laugh. Lucas hadn't laughed like that in a long time, and that was when he decided that he could be himself around her. 

Sasha's question had gotten him thinking. Yeah, he did want to feel loved by everyone. He wanted to stop feeling like everyone he interacted with hated him or thought he was annoying or would hurt him if he got too attached. He also knew that was far-fetched.

But still. As he lay in bed that night, before he closed his eyes, he wondered if maybe Sasha was right. Maybe he did want Danny. Maybe...

\--

Lucas took a deep breath, stuffing his work outfit in his backpack and slinging it over his shoulders. He hated this part of the day -- walking to the strip club in the dark. God, anything bad could happen at any moment or who would be there or care enough to help?

Also he just really hated the dark.

The journey to the strip club was ten minutes. Ten minutes of silence, of constantly looking over his shoulder and jumping every time a car drove past. He only felt an ounce of safety when he was standing in front of the doors to the Devil's Iris, ready to begin another work day. 

_CLATTER_!

Lucas jumped about a mile high and spun around towards the noise. It came from the allyway next to the club.

Oh, no no no. That was the last place he wanted to go, especially when the sun still had yet to rise. Maybe he'd have his boss check it out. 

He turned back to the doors, reached out a hand.

"Pst! Hey!"

He jumped again. Just ignore it. Just ignore it. Go indoors. Get somebody else. Anyone else.

He turned away from the doors and slowly walked towards the noise. He clutched his backpack straps tightly. When he turned the corner, he braced, ready to be tackled.

Except there was no one. Confused more than anything now, he released a deep breath, scolding himself for being so frightened. It was probably just a little kid playing a prank. He was fine. 

Lucas let out a loud cry then as he was forcefully shoved further into the ally. A body pressed up against his back, a dirty hand covered his mouth. He was pushed up against the wall. 

"What do we have here?" a male asked, his voice right next to Lucas's ear. His breath tickled his skin. "I know for a fact this place isn't open for the public yet. So what are you doing? Sneaking in? Trying to get a peak at the ladies, huh?" 

Lucas whimpered. 

"No? I didn't think so." A low chuckle. "You work there, don't you? That wouldn't be much of a problem if you were a girl, but you aren't, are you?" When Lucas didn't answer, he gripped his hair and tugged his head back. "Answer me, you little bitch!"

Tears sprung to Lucas's eyes. He opened his mouth, choked on his words, swallowed. "N-no," he managed. 

"Didn't think so." He shoved Lucas to the ground, right up against someone else who grabbed his arms and held it behind his back. The first guy held up Lucas's bag. Lucas wiggled in the other man's hold.

"No! Give that back! Give it back!"

The man pursed his lips. "No... I don't think I will. In fact..." He unzipped the bag and pulled out Lucas's outfit. 

Lucas broke down, still writhing in the other man's hold. He didn't know the point as he wouldn't let go. His hold was only getting tighter. He was terrified, though. 

"Is this what you wear?" The man chuckled. "How sexy. Bet you woo all the guys with this." He dropped it to the ground, stepped forward right on it, and frowned down at Lucas. "How disgusting. You don't deserve to be here, don't you think? Living amongst the rest of us--" He knelt down, reached out a hand, and placed it against Lucas's cheek--" _normal_ humans."

Lucas stared up at him with wide, watery eyes. His voice was low and wobbly when he spoke. "What is your problem?"

He cracked a smile. "Why, you are, my dear." He patted his cheek a little too roughly, then stood back up. "And next time, I won't play so nice. Remember that." 

And that was the end of that. Both of the guys left without another word. Lucas curled up against the wall, hugging his legs tightly against his chest, his head buried against his knees. He sobbed uncontrollably, his heart thudding against his ribcage, too afraid to move from his spot. 

"Lucas? Is that you?"


End file.
